Lights Out
by keem
Summary: Their shared infatuation brings them together. For .PhaerynTao. BxMello, ongoing.
1. with the lights out

**A/N: **BRUAUHGHHG. This is such a long time coming, and I'm so, so very sorry. I've seriously owed Tao some BxMello since the start of December xD Yeah, it's a little (read: a LOT) late, but hopefully I can make it up to her by turning this into a multi-chaptered, unintelligible mess. xD YES.

Quote provided by Neal Stephenson.

--

_Talent was not rare; the ability to survive having it was._

--

Looks could be deceiving with Mello; long before he had gotten himself a reputation in Wammy's House, there was nothing outwardly extraordinary about the child. He was blonde, thin, perhaps slightly more attractive than your average eleven year old– but beyond that, completely interchangeable with the scores of other children one would find in a schoolyard. When they brought Mello to Wammy's House, he had been quiet, reflective, with blue-bright eyes that glittered with keen interest—although this was nothing terribly unusual, considering the Institute. Mello, it initially seemed, was normal. Run-of-the-mill. Utterly unspectacular within the ranks of the prestigious Wammy school.

But unspectacular was precisely what Mello _wasn't_.

--

Mello's arrival had coincided with A's suicide, and Beyond found himself immediately paired with a replacement roommate as a result. New playthings were nice, but Beyond seriously doubted that this buttery-haired newcomer's arrival could compare to the intrigue that came with watching someone waste away before his very eyes. Beyond had been able to see life spans for a very long time, longer than he could first remember - had watched people flit in and out of his life, like flickers on an old-timey reel of film. But never before had he had the opportunity to _watch_ it happen, not like it had been with A. Beyond could not only observe the countdown by the days, but by the hours, by the_ minutes_. A had been… exceptional.

When they had first informed him of his new living arrangement, Beyond had merely smiled in that crooked way that so unnerved the staff. All morning he had fantasized about what sort of person this _Mello_ would be. His general appearance, what his real name was, how pretty those numbers would look, scrawled above his boyish head.

_Will you be close to your end, like A was? Can I push you to your brink, too?_

But later that afternoon, when Beyond first laid his eyes upon his new roommate, he knew it was futile. Mello still had nearly ten years left to go. A shame, really.

Introductions weren't made – Beyond already knew who Mello was, the moment that wiry child stepped foot in the cramped space of their bedroom. _Mihael Keehl._ Mello, meanwhile, refused to lift his gaze to meet Beyond's own as he made a beeline for their bunk beds. Others may have taken the deliberate lack of eye contact as an act of subservience, but Beyond knew instinctively that it was out of a complete lack of interest.

_Pretentious little brat, are we?_

(The other pieces of the story would come to him later. Mello's quiet acceptance into Wammy's House, it turned out, hadn't been so quiet at all – they had dragged him in here, kicking and screaming, and it had taken a good half an hour to get him to shut up and behave. Thereafter, Mello had retaliated by stubbornly giving them exactly what they had wanted: he remained despondent, mute, as though he had lost the ability to speak entirely, or had never had it to begin with. For days afterwards he had infuriated the staff with his silent temper tantrum. Mello, Beyond was quick to learn, was a _monster_.)

As Mello considered his options before him, Beyond said in an offhand voice, not looking up from the textbook he was poring over at the cramped desk in the corner.

"You can have the bottom one."

(Earlier that week he had learned that L had taken a keen interest in theology, back when he was a student at Wammy's House. All morning he had been trying to familiarize himself with the subject, striving to be on par with the super-genius in this particular area for the next time their paths crossed.)

_I want to be indistinguishable, inside and out._

He _heard_ it more than he actually saw it; the defiant smirk as Mello's hands caught hold of the railing, ready to vault himself over.

_Oh no, that simply won't do. _B swung himself free from the chair he had been perched upon so precariously mere moments before. Even in his slouched stance, he was still considerably taller than the younger child. Beyond sighed drearily, as though what was coming next was incredibly taxing on him. Mello's eyes glinted mischievously, as though challenging him. He smirked.

"I said bottom bunk, _Mihael Keehl_."

_That _had an immediate effect, although perhaps not the one that B had hoped for. He was so used to inspiring fear with such a tactic in the other children, but Mello was new here, and merely looked confused, and then curious.

"How do you know my name? I thought everyone went by aliases here."

His voice was deeper than B had imagined, but there were still traces of prepubescent whine.

"We do."

Mello narrowed his eyes. "Then how do you know?"

B smiled mischievously right on back at him, a perfect mimic of Mello's earlier expression. "It's a secret."

"I don't like secrets," the boy sniffed.

B shrugged and turned away. "Well that's too bad." He held the computer chair steady as he pulled himself back upon it. It was an awkward climb, and the chair wobbled threateningly beneath him, but B had done it so many times by now that he never once feared falling.

He didn't have to look behind him to know that Mello was annoyed. He could make out in his peripheral that the orphan had folded his arms, nose wrinkled slightly in disgust. "Why do you sit like that? You look dumb."

"I'm emulating L," B said, flipping the book open again to resume his reading. "You know that's why you're here, right? To become him."

"If he sits like _that_," Mello scoffed in a haughty voice, "why would anyone _want_ to be him? You look ridiculous. I bet the other kids here make fun of you behind your back."

"They wouldn't dare," B said over his shoulder, with a leery smile.

Mello at last looked a little unsettled. B continued to watch him critically, delighting in the knitted eyebrows, the highly mistrustful look. He can practically hear Mello's gears working in his tiny little head, the evolutionary instincts kicking in.

_Fight or flight?_

"I just don't see what the big deal with this L guy is," Mello said at last, trying to put on a show of bravado that was quite clearly a façade. B was not convinced in the slightest. "So he's a detective. So _what_."

"Not interested?" B laughed, a hollow sound. "Don't worry. You _will_ be."

Mello didn't have a reply for that.


	2. its no less dangerous

B hadn't paid Mello that much attention after that, at least at first. Mello was a bit unusual upon closer inspection– but in Wammy's House, who _wasn't?_ And because B was the most eccentric of all, that didn't amount to much. Mello was a chaotic force of nature, aggressive and loud, and loved to start trouble; more than once he had been late returning to his dorm, having been held back by teachers in detention. Most kids in the institute kept out of trouble - or were at least above having themselves caught in the midst of it – but it seemed like Mello conducted mischief in plain sight out of deliberation. He made a production out of it. He _wanted _to be caught, _wanted_ to be reprimanded.

Predictably, he was taken in for analysis by a prestigious team of doctors. This was the staff's solution to any new and interesting behavior - assign some mental deficiency to the child to explain the phenomena. But B knew better than to think that it was a chemical imbalance that was causing Mello to act so spectacularly: it was just that Mello was a _brat_, plain and simple.

It was mildly entertaining to round a bend and find Mello vandalizing the walls of the prestigious academy, or roughing up some boys. But beyond that, B was not impressed in the slightest. Behind closed doors, he had better things to do, bigger things to accomplish. He couldn't be bothered with such trivial behavior. And Mello wisely stayed out of his way.

Most of the time, anyway.

--

"The other kids like to talk a lot of shit behind your back, you know."

Lately, Mello had taken an interest in swearing. Not surprising, since the behavior was immediately gratifying: scandalized looks from whatever staff was lurking nearby, coupled with the excited murmurs of children watching in glee as Mello was taken aside to be given a severe talking-to. Beyond didn't even blink.

"Oh?" he murmured, holding the edges of the book he was going over between his index and thumb.

Mello, predictably, became agitated when it was clear Beyond wasn't paying him any attention. He wrenched the book out of Beyond's delicate grasp with more force than what was entirely necessary. His eyes blazed with triumph as Beyond rounded him with a cool, largely indifferent expression.

_Now you've got my attention, don't you? _

"Why do you hold stuff like that? It's stupid."

_Just what you wanted, wasn't it?_

"We've already been over this, Mello," Beyond said with a tired sigh. "I'm emulating L."

_Be careful, Mihael. You have no idea what I'm capable of._

"No where in my orientation did they say I had to literally _become_ L. I think you're taking your interpretation way too seriously, B," the young blonde scoffed, before moving to toss the book behind his shoulder –

--Except that Beyond was already there. The open look of surprise on Mello's face was extremely gratifying. The blonde seemed largely taken aback by the sudden movement on Beyond's behalf. The misconception wasn't without merit, of course: usually Beyond's gestures were languid at best, and he rarely moved from his perch to begin with.

_You'll be sorry you so sorely underestimated me._

"The other children are afraid of you," Mello blurted out suddenly, and then immediately flushed in response. It appeared as though he hadn't actually meant to say such a thing out loud. Beyond merely smiled as he set the book gently on the desk behind him.

"They don't understand how I can stand to be your roommate."

"Not an unreasonable question, given the circumstances surrounding my relationship with A," Beyond mused.

"What do you mean?" Mello asked, looking a little worried now. "What happened to A?"

"You mean they didn't tell you?" B asked in an offhand voice. Then, more to himself than anyone else: "No, no, of course not… they wouldn't want to deter you…"

"Deter me from what?" Mello seemed to think that volume was the key to not sounding afraid. With every word, he seemed to be getting louder and louder in order to mask the undertone of tear. "What the hell are you talking about, B? They told me that that A just left the institute… but that isn't the case, is it? What really happened?" When Beyond didn't respond in a timely fashion, merely gazing away from Mello with a contemplative look, the blonde reached out and seized him angrily around one bony wrist.

"Tell me, Beyond!"

Beyond regarded Mello with lifted eyebrows, now lost beneath the unruly mop of his hair.

"You must not want that hand, Mihael."

Mello immediately snatched the offending appendage away. "What the hell is wrong with you? Why do you always say such weird things?"

"I drove A to suicide, Mihael," B said finally, in that same unaffected voice as usual. "Sure, he left Wammy's House – in a manner of speaking. He went in a body bag."

"You're joking!" Mello said, and it was less of a startled exclamation and more of an adamant refusal to believe.

"Would I lie to you?"

Mello didn't seem to have an answer for that. Beyond chose that time to advance, and Mello answered obligingly: immediately he began to back up.

"Watch your step, Mihael." Mello looked down, but he acknowledged the lone shoe too late; he was already tripping. His back hit the wall with an audible thud, and the fact that he had now just backed himself into a corner was not lost on him. Beyond greatly enjoyed the look of open fear on his creamy skin.

"Now look what you've done," Beyond admonished teasingly, mockingly. "You've gotten yourself trapped." He lifted his hand and Mello actually flinched, and badly. He cupped the frightened blonde just underneath the chin, forcing him to look up into those scarlet eyes, so accustomed to striking terror into the hearts of other children.

"Fear suits you, Mihael. You look lovely right now."

Mello did not seem reassured by the compliment in the slightest.

_You look like you're about to pee your pants._ Beyond smiled.

"Don't worry, Mihael. I may hurt you, but I'm certainly not going to _kill _you. And I certainly can't drive you to suicide, although I can't say I won't try." Mello appeared stricken, but to his credit, he did not look away. Beyond's smile softened somewhat, but it was not a convincing gesture. "You've still got a few years left. Enjoy them."

And just as quickly as it had happened, it was over. Beyond dropped his hand, and immediately began to retreat back to his desk. Mello remained frozen in that corner for several more minutes, and the room lapsed into blissful silence for a time.

It was the start of a beautiful relationship.

--

_You must not want that hand_—borrowed from Kubo Tite's _Bleach_. Byakuya says that to Ichigo as he pulls on the elder shinigami's robes.

Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far!


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